


ocean eyes

by SaintDracTheAlien



Series: the road to scarletvision: from ultron to civil war, from strangers to something more [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, I'm adding a narrative to those assumed feelings, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Past Character Death, but she does resign herself to fate and explains her intentions, for the entirety of this story wanda is reacting to pietro's death, it's pretty solid fanon that wanda didn't care if she lived or died as novi grad fell, so if reading about her internal suicidal thoughts will hurt you then please skip this, there is no self-harm or physical attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-07-13 11:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16016939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintDracTheAlien/pseuds/SaintDracTheAlien
Summary: PREQUEL TO "HOSTAGE" - PART ONEPietro is dead, Sokovia is scarred, and all seems lost as Novi Grad falls from the sky. Wanda Maximoff has just experienced the greatest loss of her life, and as a result, makes an unimaginable decision. The Vision, meanwhile, is looking to regain her trust and re-establish their telepathic connection. The result is a rescue attempt that does not go as expected, and both heroes will emerge with more questions than answers.An in-depth look at the final moments of the battle at Novi Grad, intended to give Wanda and Vision the character and relationship development they deserved but didn't receive.(takes about 45 minutes to read)





	1. burning cities

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up - I don't consider the relationship to be blatantly romantic until after the Sokovia accords are introduced, but I wanted to write this part of the story because I love them both as characters whether or not they're a *couple* yet. I hope you all can enjoy it as well :) 
> 
> Also, PLEASE check the tags for warnings, this story may not be suited for all readers. If you are sensitive to mentions of suicidal thoughts or actions, or descriptions of death and intense grief, you may want to skip this story. There is no actual attempt, but you know your limits better than I do.

It felt like the world had been doused in gasoline and promptly set aflame.

Wanda Maximoff could not see her brother, knowing that he was somewhere near the edge of the city, but she could feel the bullets as soon as they hit. An instant ago she had felt nothing unusual - and now, only seconds later, the agony was unimaginable as she felt the shots pepper his body. She could taste copper in her mouth as he began to slip away, each wound in his skin blistering within her own mind, turning her numb both inside and out. 

Thus far, Wanda had been grateful for her telepathy, but it only betrayed her now as her brother looked death in the face. She could do nothing to stop his suffering, yet she felt everything and more, her senses overloaded with blood and terror and fire. There was so much fire.

Not my brother, she begged. Please not Pietro. Not him, not him, not him.

But her pleas came far too late, and as Pietro’s body hit the ground miles away from where she stood, Wanda let out a terrifying scream, the most horrible sound she had ever heard. She could hardly see as she felt herself collapse, white-hot tears blurring everything around her as he lay in the street, streaming down her cheeks when she finally felt him disappear.

He’s dead.

Wanda could feel needles in her fingertips, and knew the whole building around her must be crackling with her crimson electricity. She hoped it was enough to fry every single droid left in the city, incinerating every last one where they stood. Her only disappointment was that they couldn’t feel the sting of death as she burnt them.

Pietro is dead.

They didn’t deserve this, there was no way they deserved this. No one had wanted any of this to happen. Wanda had never wanted to hurt so many people, to ruin her own neighbour’s lives. They may have made terrible mistakes, but they had tried so hard to make everything right again, to atone for what they had done. This toll was too high to expect of her, wasn’t it? 

My brother is dead.

Today had taken everything - her home, her people, maybe even her sanity. How was she supposed to carry on from here? The one thing keeping her chained to this Earth had been ripped away in the blink of an eye, leaving her reeling.

Suddenly, she knew who had done it - no man had pulled the trigger that killed her brother. Wanda’s head throbbed, and she was still too dizzy to see properly, her body refusing to stand again on its own. So she forced herself up, blinded by her anguish but unable to ignore the rage that seared through her veins. She would finish this, even if it was the last thing she did.

Ultron may not have been mortal, but by God, Wanda was going to find a way to kill him.


	2. napalm skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't often make suggestions like this, BUT to enhance your reading experience in both this chapter and the next, I advise viewers to quietly listen to 'Berliner Messe - Kyrie' by the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir as they read. you'll recognize it once you hear it. if not, that's cool too - I had it on repeat as I wrote, so hopefully the vibe will translate well.

Wanda’s hands shook, but she could hardly feel it - she could hardly feel her body at all. Nothing was quite real anymore except for the throbbing in her head and the ache in her chest. It was like she was detached from her own feet, just trusting them to take her where she needed to go. 

And she needed to find Ultron, before the whole damn city either fell out of the sky or got blown to pieces. She needed to find him and tear his vibranium hide in half, turn his insides out and leave him as nothing but scraps dripping with oil.

Pietro was dead, and soon enough, his killer would be too.

Wanda stumbled through the street, keeping an eye out for the Quinjet that had fired the shots. It didn’t take a long search before she spotted the craft taking off into the surrounding airspace. Not long from now, it would fade into the cloud cover.

“No!” she screamed, and broke into a run. Some remote corner of her brain was still logical, and knew that Wanda couldn’t catch it now, but she chose to ignore it. She could only run faster, following the stream of smoke that tailed after the jet, hoping that somehow, Ultron would end up back within her reach.

Not a minute after her panic, Wanda spotted a figure leap from the ground and catch onto the end of the Quinjet. Who that figure could be was beyond her - Thor possibly, or maybe the Falcon - it was much too far for her to see. She picked up her pace, anxious to keep track of the craft, and waited with bated breath. Soon, a humanoid shape was suddenly thrown from the jet, and most importantly, it continued plummeting back to the city.

Ultron or not, it didn’t matter. Wanda kept up her sprint, following the figure to its eventual crash site, hoping that if the villain wasn’t waiting for her there, someone willing to help her may be. If the Quinjet was still carrying even one of the bots to safety, it would have to be taken down.

As she ran through the streets, Wanda’s chaotic magic suddenly began dancing around her fingertips. She didn’t know much about her powers with such little experience, but she had been told that a red glow would sometimes flicker in her eyes when the sparks began to flare. Even though she couldn’t see herself, Wanda was nearly certain that her irises must be glowing as she bolted - how could they not be, when she had practically created her own energy field out of rage?

Hopefully, she would never feel this much vicious power flow through her veins again. It was like poison, but one that she had to continue drinking if she had any hope of destroying Ultron. She wouldn’t be strong enough to tear him to shreds with her power alone - yet with this toxic surge of adrenaline coursing through her, fueling her every step, Wanda was willing to die trying.

She was willing to die, Wanda realized. She kept running, her left hand furiously scrubbing tears from her cheeks, and thought about Pietro’s blood leaving stains on the street. His navy hoodie sitting in the tower, folded lazily and waiting on a closet shelf. Those twelve long minutes that had separated them since birth - and she abruptly realized that once it had been twelve minutes since his death, Wanda would surpass him in age.

Had it been twelve minutes yet? She really didn’t care to know. She didn’t ever want to be older than her brother, no matter how many times it had given him an upper hand. How ridiculous it all seemed now, that she could have ever been seven years old and upset that Pietro got the first slice of birthday cake. That she could have ever been twelve and afraid that he would be taken from her, adopted into some other family who only wanted one child and chose the elder son. 

That she had let him walk away, leaving her to guard the church, and that she hadn’t even considered needing to say goodbye.

A trail of smoke curled into the sky several meters away, small but noticeable enough for her - Wanda had almost reached the spot. She slowed down as she approached, taking in the scene in front of her: a collapsed street car, thrown off its track and disconnected in several places, settled in the middle of the road. The smoke funneled out of a car in the center, where the figure must have crashed through the roof. Her eyes locked onto a door not far from the crash, and without hesitation, Wanda strode toward it.

One of the sliding doors already looked broken into - someone had obviously jammed it open earlier, perhaps in an attempt to escape. Wanda recklessly slid through the gap and into the car, looking quickly down the length of the train to see who had been thrown from the jet. At first glance, she could see neither a man nor a machine, and silently cursed at what appeared to be a misdirection. After taking a few more slow steps forward, however, Wanda spotted a familiar, crumpled heap laying at the foot of a bench: Ultron himself had landed at her feet, and as he saw the menacing look in her eyes, a wave of terror to seemed to fill his own.

Wanda was determined to make this train his tomb.


	3. fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes

Ultron did not make any move to escape, instead continuing to heave with the pain of crashing (though Wanda was not sure if he really felt it - and if he was attempting to look vulnerable or earn her mercy, it was far too late). His beady red eyes faded in and out, and sparks occasionally flew from breaks in his exoskeleton. Both of these signs told Wanda that this body of his would not stay online much longer, whether she took action or not. Yet she was determined to be Ultron’s destroyer, and it was not good enough to leave him for his fate. She would take existence from him here, while the other Avengers ensured he could never rise again elsewhere.

Wanda walked slowly down the train car, letting her approach marinade, knowing that she was free to take her time. Novi Grad may be minutes away from destruction, but each of those minutes belonged to her work. She didn’t care about having ample time to escape, not anymore - she only cared about ending this fight properly. Ultron, however, didn’t even shudder as she came closer and closer. It seemed as though he had expected Wanda to be his killer for some time now, and grown comfortable with the idea.

Yet she smiled to herself, knowing that he could not anticipate her exact plans for him.

She eventually got as close as she cared to be, and knelt in front of the crazed android as he whispered her name: “Wanda.” A shiver ran through her spine and out her shoulders with the sound.

“If you stay here,” Ultron told her weakly, “you’ll die.”

As if Wanda could still care about her own life when her brother’s had already been stolen. As if she would ever truly heed Ultron’s words again, or trust him to lead her right. He had never found them to be truly worthwhile anyway - all he had ever wanted from Wanda was the magic in her hands, and for her to put it in his enemies’ heads for him. 

And in her compliance, she had lost everything. There was no life for her after this.

“I just did,” she rasped, surprised at the rawness of her own voice. “Do you know how it felt?”

Wanda reached one hand out towards Ultron, her fingers filling with lightning as she looked for whatever excuse he had for a heart. She tugged at his chest and his head was thrown backwards, unable to keep his insides from being pulled outwards. He gasped in what Wanda interpreted as surprise, and to her satisfaction, it seemed as though the bot truly hadn’t expected such a violent end.

She eventually gripped onto his center, finding the energy source she was looking for, and hooking on as Ultron reeled. The hunk of metal that he had tried to pass as an organ soon broke through the surface of his armor, but Wanda was in no hurry by any means. She pulled lightly, so as to let it sit longer in the large split she had created, hoping that if Ultron was able to feel pain after all, he would have an ache in his chest to match her own. 

Not long did she torture him before the heart came flying out into her palm, splattering oil over them both, and she clutched the mess greedily. Ultron stared at the orb in her hands, his eyes flickering more weakly than before, and watched as Wanda studied what used to be his lifeline. She couldn’t see a proper heart in it, no matter how hard she tried - it had never been something Ultron cared enough to truly incorporate into himself.

And yet, she hoped it had still stung unbearably for him to lose it.

Wanda looked back at the droid, leaned forward, and answered her own question for him: “It felt like that.”

She set the hunk of metal on the floor next to her, not caring much where it ended up, and quickly raised her other hand. At first, Ultron said nothing, too weak to focus as his power dropped by the second - but as soon as Wanda began to magically pull the rift in his chest even further apart, the machine let out his last scream (proving that he must, after all, feel everything she did to him).

Wanda smiled as the hole grew wider and wider, watching it split further down his form, until it finally reached his skull. A long crack grew across his face, and the scream stopped without a proper mouth to form it. She pulled harder and harder, her hands vibrating, finding every dent and scratch in the droid and amplifying it. The break in Ultron’s torso steadily branched off into his shoulders and down to his knees, and plates of his arms and legs began breaking free of his frame. His body was shattering, and Wanda stood slowly, subconsciously levitating it off the ground and letting pieces fall as they broke off.

A shudder began to course through her own body, and Wanda’s shoulders shook as she destroyed Ultron’s last vibranium form, piece by piece. The pressure continued building, every chip and fracture spreading, until with a final twist of her fingers, the metal skeleton broke in half down the middle, and she dropped the remaining fragments on the floor. Sparks sputtered as the destroyed body crashed, any last circuits cutting off for good, and Ultron’s skull landed in two pieces just a few feet from where Wanda stood, gasping for air.

She looked at her work in near silence, the only disturbance being the wind that continued rushing as the city rose further upward. No piece of Ultron would ever leave this place, and she could only pray that all of his drones had been taken down before they could flee.

Wanda just hoped that what she had done here was worse than Pietro’s bullet holes.

She turned and walked back to the door through which she had entered, and after stepping out of it more gingerly than before, she was met with the nearly blinding light of the sun. Shielding her eyes, Wanda looked out to the horizon and saw that there were hardly any clouds around them anymore. All she could see in any direction was a silver sky and abandoned buildings, empty roads and piles of rubble. Novi Grad was running out of time, quickly now, and it wouldn’t be long before the ground she stood on was just memories and dust.

And as soon as the thought crossed Wanda’s mind, the emptied city started to fall back to Earth.


	4. you really know how to make me cry

The Vision had not interacted much with the mind stone since arriving in Sokovia. Even as Ultron’s sentries had terrorized Novi Grad, and the Avengers had repeatedly beaten them back, the golden gem had remained mostly silent to him. It was his first time truly experiencing a quiet mind - before first opening his eyes, Vision had become very familiar with the others who shared a connection with the stone, hearing their thoughts echo in his head.

Ultron had been driven insane, overwhelmed with desperation. Pietro Maximoff was often uncertain yet still quick to act, barely whispering as he navigated the conflict.

And his sister?

She had been...unique, to say the least.

Wanda Maximoff was just as formidable of a mental presence as Ultron, yet her inner monologue had been much more fluid than his. When Vision had first heard her, all he had felt was terrible shock. Incomprehensible fear. And then urgency, stubborn refusal...violence. As they met eyes for the first time, he had been flooded with her distrust. That skepticism was the last time he had heard from her - Vision suspected that she had realized he could read her in return, and consciously been cutting off the channel. Ultron must have done the same while making himself a new body, wishing to be psychically inaccessible to his intended heir.

The only presence that had remained during the battle was Pietro, and because he was not aware of his connection to the stone, his thoughts were simple and fleeting. Vision mostly heard single words, densely packed with the boy’s determination: names, directions, instructions, goals.

But now, as Vision flew through the thick clouds, destroying Ultron’s drones as they attempted to escape, he heard one word much more frantic and afraid than Pietro had previously sounded:

CLINT!

His exclamation echoed strangely for a moment, before suddenly, he was completely silent. Vision stopped in the air, listening carefully, his stomach suddenly pitching. Something was very wrong - one moment he had felt Pietro there, and the next, he had simply slipped away. This hadn’t happened before, and Vision couldn’t help but fear…

Surely this wasn’t as it seemed, right? But he wouldn’t know for certain until he saw the twin with his own eyes, or at least received some concrete information. For now, the stone’s telepathy had nothing else to offer. Vision turned and darted back to the nearby helicarrier, glancing at the long train of docked lifeboats out of the corner of his eye.

He cleared through the veil of clouds surrounding the massive carrier, slowing as he approached the deck, and eventually touched down on one of the helicopter pads. As soon as Vision landed, however, a gut-wrenching scream tore through his skull and into his mind. He crumpled to his knees at the sound, clutching at his head and wincing as the cry shattered every other thought and feeling. 

Every ounce of agony and pain leaked out of the broken sound and into Vision’s heart, and he practically shook with secondhand grief. It took no time at all for him to understand that it was Wanda on the other end, sobbing over her brother’s sudden disconnection.

Pietro Maximoff was dead.

Slowly, the reverberations of Wanda’s screams faded out of the stone’s channel, and while he could certainly still hear her echoing in the back corners of his mind, Vision’s head cleared and he steadily stood. Each step he took seemed more fragile than before, as if experiencing the weight of the Maximoff girl’s mourning was making him dizzy. One hand was still poised at his forehead, pressing at the ghost of the pain he had felt. He stepped off the edge of the pad and floated down to the hangar doors below, slipping in beside agents and airmen alike.

The Vision followed the dozens of men and women into the helicarrier, tailing the ones dressed more formally under the assumption that they were headed to the control room. Eventually, he came to a pair of large archways, through which he could see rows of computers and wide walkways. Briefly, there was a flash of a black and silver Iron Man suit, and Vision instantly recognized it as the War Machine armor.

He quickly stepped through the doorway and into the large room, hardly noticing any heads that turned to watch him. Colonel Rhodes stood talking with a woman whom Vision didn’t recognize, but as he walked closer, she noticed his arrival and stopped Rhodes from continuing before pointing in his direction. The colonel turned, a look of surprise on his face.

“Vision?” he asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “What’s going on?”

“Are you still on comms?” Vision replied, intent on asking his own questions first.

“Yeah, why?”

“I need you to find out where Pietro Maximoff’s body is, and quickly.”

“His body? Slow down, what do you mean his body? What happened?”

Vision’s head pounded as he remembered the sound of Wanda Maximoff’s scream. “He’s been killed somewhere in Novi Grad. Someone on your team needs to recover him before the city is destroyed.”

“How do you know he’s dead?” Rhodes continued in disbelief, but Vision’s patience with his questioning was beginning to wear thin.

“We’re wasting time, Colonel, and lying about Pietro’s death would do nothing to serve Ultron. Contact your team for any information they may have, and send whoever you wish to find him before it’s impossible to do so.”

Rhodes blinked twice before turning to look at the woman he’d previously been speaking with.

“Have you heard anything about this?” he asked, and after she shook her head, she lifted a finger up to her earpiece. Rhodes assumedly did the same, turning to say something in a low voice to the inside of his helmet, where his radio was installed.

“All units still on the ground,” the woman began instructing, “I need a visual on the Maximoffs.”

Vision turned to face the dozens of agents working at computers, each trading information and directions over their microphones, arranging the evacuation of hundreds of Sokovians. Surely, somebody saw what happened and would know where to find the boy’s body.

At the same time, another mystery hung over the Vision: why did he care so much about this recovery anyway? Could he have grown attached to the twins despite how little he truly knew them, valuing the connection that the mind stone had established between them? Was this a reaction to feeling guilty that he had not been able to intervene? Or perhaps, could he simply be overwhelmed with compassion for Wanda after witnessing how distraught she’d become in the wake of losing her brother?

He wasn’t sure how to justify feeling such a sense of urgent responsibility over this, but in the end, Vision decided that part of being human was desiring to help others overcome tragedy and loss. If he was going to truly embrace humanity, that alone could be explanation enough for him.

“Barton saw it happen,” Rhodes finally reported, his voice solemn, “and he has Pietro on one of the lifeboats. They’ll bring him back to the carrier with any others. Wanda can decide what to do from there.”

“And where is she?” Vision asked, hoping either the colonel or the agent may have an answer to his question.

“I asked a small team to extract her from the church,” the woman next to Rhodes replied, “but she wasn’t there when they arrived. There’s been no other sign of her so far.”

Vision considered this for only a short moment before answering, “Then send me to find her. There is not enough time for your team to look further, and she may not know her brother’s body has already been recovered. I’ll explain and take her to the boats.”

“What makes you think she even realizes Pietro is dead?” Rhodes asked.

“Because,” the Vision explained gravely, looking back at Rhodes, “I listened as her world fell to pieces.”


	5. when you give me those ocean eyes

The lifeboats were loaded, and as far as Vision had been told, Wanda Maximoff hadn’t yet been counted on any of them. Colonel Rhodes had promised to let him know if she was found, but as he had heard nothing, he assumed she was still somewhere in the streets.

Vision knew that Wanda had realized Pietro was dead - how could he have missed it? But because he knew that she was in grief, he couldn’t help but wonder if she had still gone looking for her brother, unaware that his body had already been moved off the city. 

He also knew it hadn’t technically been his responsibility to resolve this situation before he’d volunteered to do so. Though to be fair, he did feel like he had just witnessed the greatest catastrophe of her life. No one else could comprehend how much pain she was in except for him, and while any other Avenger was just as familiar with Wanda’s character as he was, he did have some crucial knowledge that they didn’t.

Well, actually, scratch that - perhaps Vision did know her better than the team of Avengers did so far. He may not have actually seen the majority of their conflict with Ultron, or what she’d done earlier to further his work, but he HAD witnessed the moment she decided to change sides (admittedly, in an extraordinary fashion). He could very clearly remember Wanda’s reaction as she saw the plans Ultron had tried to plant in his mind. Her fear of the global destruction he had been designed to cause was enough to make him feel guilty, even after choosing to oppose Ultron’s mission. 

Perhaps that’s what this was about, and Vision was trying to save someone majorly responsible for his sense of compassion. Or maybe he was subconsciously trying to prove to her that she could trust him despite what she had previously seen. All excuses aside, the sound of Wanda’s voice was the first thing the Vision could remember hearing - and it seemed compulsory to care if she lived or died, whether or not he could explain that compulsion with words.

As this train of thought made its way through Vision’s head, his main focus was on scanning the streets for any sign of stragglers. No one had seen Wanda Maximoff, or any other remaining Sokovians for that matter, and the city seemed completely empty. Debris was scattered everywhere, and the wind blew as the city rose further into the sky. Novi Grad was a complete ghost town.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that he would never find her in time if all he did was try to spot her from above. Wanda had cut herself off from the mind stone’s connection just moments after Vision first saw her, and he was tempted to try consciously connecting with her again. So far he’d simply let her remain distant, but he was nearly certain she wasn’t focused on putting up any mental defenses right now. Her screams had definitely made it through the stone’s channel without difficulty, after all - and while Vision hadn’t heard from her since, he was sure he could try reaching out without much resistance. He felt bad about invading when he wasn’t welcome, but it could be a matter of life and death at this point, and he was running out of both time and alternative options.

Vision stopped in the middle of the air, hovering near the city’s edge, and closed his eyes in concentration. He hadn’t yet tried something like this and wasn’t sure how to go about doing it. At first, he was silent, letting his mind clear of distractions and trying to focus on the girl he was trying to find. He held her name at the forefront of his thoughts, recalling the way it felt when he’d been in the cradle and felt her for the first time. She had a distinct signature, and Vision hoped that the longer he kept it in mind, the more likely he would be to find it again.

Please, he pleaded with the infinity stone, help me find her again.

A dreadfully long moment of silence passed. Nothing seemed to change about the connection with the stone, and Wanda was no closer than she’d been before. Vision shut his eyes tighter, feeling his frustration begin to build up as he pushed harder, desperate to make some kind of contact.

Wanda, he called out, hoping that she would heard him as he tried reconnecting.

There was another pause of emptiness, before slowly, something started to come through. It wasn’t Wanda re-establishing the connection, however - Vision had been able to tell her apart from her brother earlier, and it wouldn’t be any more difficult to know when it wasn’t her now. The presence wasn’t familiar to him at first, but as it grew stronger, it was finally enough that the Vision realized who was reaching out to the mind stone’s telepathic void:

Ultron was the one coming through, and he was afraid for his life, his pain growing as death crept closer and closer. Something was killing him, and as the sounds of the android’s murder slowly grew louder, it was clear that whoever it was, they were fine with taking as much time as they liked.

With that realization, everything seemed to fall into place: Pietro’s last thought had been to save Clint Barton, who Vision now assumed must have been under attack from Ultron. In the process, the boy must have been killed, and his sister had felt it the moment he was gone. And now Ultron lay dying somewhere, painfully enough that anyone paired by the mind stone could feel him. It made sense why Wanda hadn’t shown up at any of the lifeboats or responded to the voices on the comms - she must’ve been tracking her brother’s killer down to have her proper revenge.

Which meant that all Vision had to do was reach Ultron, and he’d find Wanda standing over him, ignoring the world falling around her while she got her brother’s justice.

His eyes snapped open, and he began racing in the direction that Ultron seemed to be coming from, determined to hold onto the connection as long as he could. Soon, Wanda would succeed and Ultron would be dead, but if Vision couldn’t find her before then, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to afterward. Following the sounds of Ultron’s death was his only hope for getting Wanda off the city before it blew - which probably had some kind of irony to it, but he could think back on that later.

Unfortunately, Vision’s target was about as far away from the makeshift helicarrier dock as it could be. Wanda had been left at the church to guard the drill, but the stone was pulling him even further beyond the city center. He was afraid to fly too high and miss spotting her on the ground, but the lower he stayed, the more obstacles he would have to dodge. Not every building in Novi Grad had toppled, and plenty still stretched proudly, only growing in height the closer he came to the city’s hub. 

To make matters worse, Ultron already seemed to grow quieter with every second that passed - Wanda had initially seemed intent on dragging out the robot’s destruction, but now her patience must be growing thin. It would be much more useful if her own connection could be re-established like before. Surely the anger she felt as she destroyed her twin’s murderer would be enough to break into the channel again? Or perhaps she was, after all, aware that someone else had witnessed her mourning and was more strictly keeping tabs on their shared telepathy. What a terrible time this would be for her to choose to resume her mental boycott.

Vision continued his long sprint as quickly as he could, sharply turning and twisting, following his connection to Ultron as long as he could keep hold of it, but it continued to fade as he traveled. The droid edged closer to death, his pain slowly growing weaker and weaker, until finally...it was gone. Not a trace of Ultron was left in the mind stone’s channel, and Vision could only assume that Wanda had at last delivered his pending final justice.

And while she was justified in doing so, her timing was inopportune to say the least. This was especially true since she’d made no effort to knock down any of the walls she’d mentally built between herself and the Vision. He was now the only other person sharing the infinity stone’s connection with her. They would have to acknowledge that sooner or later, right?

Pick sooner, he hoped in a panic. Right now would be preferable.

Vision didn’t dare close his eyes while flying so recklessly among the buildings of Novi Grad’s downtown, but he desperately diverted as much focus as he could to reaching Wanda’s head again. Any kind of signal she might send to him, whether willingly or not, could very well make or break her rescue. At the same time, Vision pressed forward, continuing in the same direction and hoping that he could see Wanda on the ground now that he had a general idea of where she may be.

Surely, she would be trying to find a way off the city, right? She knew her brother was gone, and that no one else (save for Vision) had any clue about where she could be found. Would she hurry back to the church in hopes that someone was waiting, or looking for her? Or on her way, would she notice the Vision as he raced through the thin air above her? And if she saw him coming, it would be pretty easy to assume he was her last chance to evacuate. She couldn’t ignore the last Avenger making rounds through the Sokovian capital before it was lost for good, could she?

Not a moment after these thoughts rushed through his mind, Vision suddenly felt his stomach drop as the gravity keeping him less than a mile off the ground was ripped from underneath him. The tall structures he’d been narrowly avoiding quickly sank through the sky, and before he could realize what had happened, their rooftops were below his feet.

The city was finally falling back to Earth, breaking through the cloud cover it had barely surpassed. Had Ultron lived just one more minute, he would have seen his plan through to the end.

But more importantly, Wanda Maximoff was assumedly still alive and stranded somewhere in the rubble - and so the Vision was off like a shot, desperate to keep her from becoming the last casualty of Novi Grad.


	6. I've never fallen from quite this height

The ground had fallen out from under Wanda’s feet, and in a flash, she’d started falling with it.

She knew instantly what had happened - she’d been the one to leave the drill unguarded after all, billowing after Ultron in a rage. Now it seemed that it didn’t matter whether she had stayed or not. Wasn’t Novi Grad destined to die either way? It was too high up for a gentle landing, and so much effort had been put into evacuating the civilians. Destruction had been the plan all along, for both Ultron and the Avengers, the sole difference being their intentions with the citizens. The only question now was whether or not the city’s impact would kill everyone on the surface.

And for that, Wanda would just have to hope that Tony Stark had done his job better than she had done hers.

Nothing could be changed now. Nothing could save the city, nothing could bring Pietro back from the dead - and nothing could get her off of Novi Grad’s surface before it was either blown to bits or became the cause of global extinction.

Her unavoidable death was all Wanda could really process as the wind rushed around her. She tried her best to stay standing, stumbling against the force of the ground beneath her, and waited for the coin toss that decided whether or not humanity survived. It definitely wasn’t in her hands anymore, as not even her own life was her choice at this point. 

And it was terrifying to realize, but Wanda had no objection to that.

It was the most awful thing she had ever felt. She was minutes away from dying, and she could only hope for the people living on the planet beneath her. She prayed that Pietro’s body had been saved and could still be buried. Wasn’t that horrible? Wanda had a feeling that if her brother could, he would scold her for worrying about his remains at a time like this. She was going to die today, and what? There was no issue? Life was simply plotting its course?

As the seconds sped past, and the harder it became to keep her feet on the asphalt, the more her passiveness towards the idea of death turned into something it never should have been. It wasn’t enthusiasm, but more like she knew to even try to survive was hopeless. She had abandoned the drill, and now she was here, and she had no options but to perish with the rest of Novi Grad: the city in which she was raised, and where her parents were buried.

Or maybe the reality of the situation simply hadn’t come crashing in yet. Maybe ten seconds from now, she would be sent into a flurry of panic, and she would use her last moment of consciousness to scream. But wouldn’t that kind of destruction be worse? To suddenly realize that your life was ending, just as any opportunity for reflection or appreciation slipped past? No, Wanda decided she preferred her disturbing acceptance over terrified opposition.

Besides, she’d rather not remember her life right now, just as she’d tried to forget it before. Her youth was an unhappy story that would never need to be told, and when she died, it would disappear.

No more scientists promising freedom and independence with their fingers crossed behind their backs. No more nights spent inside of empty dumpsters, or worse, in tiny rooms shared by twenty children. No politicians, no police, and no priests.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, holding onto that promise. It would be over soon, and she wouldn’t have to be Wanda Maximoff anymore…

And then she suddenly felt pressure on her back, like an arm wrapping around her waist, and her eyes snapped back open at the touch.


	7. fallen into your ocean eyes

Vision quickly tucked an arm around her shoulders, and then under her knees as well, and lifted Wanda off the crumbling street. He glanced quickly above them, making sure nothing had fallen or crashed to obstruct their escape route - but in the corner of his eye, Vision saw Wanda blink rapidly in panicked confusion. She whipped her head around to both sides, obviously not sure who exactly had come to retrieve her. Eventually, her eyes landed on the crimson hand clasped around her arm, and a look of recognition crossed her face.

He quickly lifted them both off of the asphalt, and the ground started to fall further below as they became suspended in the air. The clouds, thin and streaked with smoke from fires scattered through the city, streamed past them as Vision flew. He kept his grip on Wanda as tight as he dared without bruising her, determined not to let her slip from his hands at this height.

Vision only hoped that the pain she was undoubtedly still experiencing would be eased soon. He didn’t know personally how it might feel to lose a brother, but he did remember how it had felt to hear her anguished scream rip through his mind. He didn’t know how to provide a solution to that agony, despite being the only true witness to her grief. Hopefully, someone at the tower could help her recover properly - and getting Wanda back to the helicarrier couldn’t be difficult now that they were so close.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wanda didn’t know what was happening. Every direction felt like up and down at the same time, as if the gravity had been switched off. Only one thing was for certain: she was no longer falling with the rest of Novi Grad. The Vision had plucked her off of the city in time to escape.

But she wasn’t supposed to escape. She didn’t want to escape Novi Grad.

Why hadn’t she been left for dead? She had left the church defenseless. She had killed Ultron out of malice, for revenge. Pietro had been killed. How could any Avenger still care if she survived? She didn’t even care anymore.

A single train of thought ran at the speed of light through Wanda’s head, and everything else turned hazy and indiscernible. Why couldn’t she have just been left for dead? Why hadn’t they let her die? She didn’t want to do this anymore! Did they not know, could they not understand that? 

She had no home and no family left. She knew what it felt like to wake up with gravel in her skin and dirt in her mouth. She had been locked inside confessionals, holding cells, Strucker’s laboratory - she had killed for Ultron and been an accomplice in his plans for the apocalypse. Pietro was dead, and she had no idea how to keep living without him.

Wanda Maximoff had already decided that she didn’t want to keep adding chapters to her story.

“NO!”


	8. (those ocean eyes)

“NO!” Wanda suddenly shouted, her voice nearly lost to the wind as Vision rushed higher into the sky.

He turned to look at her, confused, and realized that she was terrified. He felt her breathing turn quick and short, and her eyes darted around in every direction in a panic. Vision quickly assumed she was in shock, either from flying or from coming so close to death, and tried to think of how to respond.

“It’s okay,” he shouted back, hoping that hearing her own name would grab her attention. “You’re safe now, the helicarrier is close.”

“No,” she said again, “no, no, no - put me back!”

Put her back?

“Where?”

“Novi Grad, the city!”

“The city?” Vision slowed just slightly, afraid that she may know something he didn’t. Perhaps she had learned something from Ultron in their final confrontation?

“Please,” Wanda cried, her voice cracking, “put me back, I don’t- I can’t-”

But an enormous roar crashed through the sky, and Vision glanced back to see one of Thor’s lightning strikes piercing the center of the falling city. The Asgardian’s electricity quickly tore through the streets, shattering miles of asphalt and concrete - until finally, Novi Grad was nothing but rubble falling from the air. 

It was all gone in seconds, as if it had never been there in the first place.

“Wanda,” Vision replied, hoping that hearing her own name might distract Wanda from her fear and help her focus on talking. “Novi Grad is gone.”

“Put me back, please, please -” she continued shouting, but it did nothing to help Vision understand. Why did she have to go back? Why couldn’t she understand that the city was really, truly gone? Surely, she had realized that this was Stark’s unavoidable solution.

“I can’t leave them, they all died there, I can’t leave them now - I don’t want - I can’t do it without them, I can’t!”

“Can’t do what?” Vision asked, even though it was likely useless - it seemed as though Wanda either could not hear him or didn’t understand what he was saying through her shock.

“Pietro,” Wanda sobbed, barely coherent in her misery. “I can’t do this without Pietro. Put me back, I can’t - I don’t want to leave him there. I can’t leave, please, you have to put me back...”

And as she trailed off, repeating the request over and over, Vision finally understood. He said nothing to the girl in his arms, letting her cry and murmur to herself while he tried to comprehend everything that had happened. 

That Wanda could be so distraught, feel her loss so strongly, that she had looked in the face of survival and tried asking for death instead - the idea frightened him beyond words. He remembered staring at the nighttime lights of New York City through the tower’s glass wall, realizing just how many fragile lives were present in that city alone. He understood the pricelessness of existence, the importance of preserving humanity - but he could not at all fathom Wanda’s desire to leave it behind.

What had she experienced that had left her so absolutely hopeless?

They soon broke through the cloud cover and quickly reached the deck of the massive helicarrier, where dozens of paramedics and first responders had stationed themselves to receive the lifeboats full of Sokovians. Vision landed a bit harshly on the edge of the deck, determined to find someone who might better understand how to help. He didn’t have to wait long before a small group of medics had spotted them and made their way over with a rolling stretcher.

“Is she injured?” one of them asked him, turning to meet Vision’s eyes quickly before helping another lift Wanda out of his firm hold and onto the stretcher. She hadn’t stopped crying, muttering her pleas again and again, and held her shaking hands in front of her torso as if they had been burnt. The responders set her gently down and left her sitting for a moment. Despite feeling disoriented himself, Vision replied, “I don’t think so - she hasn’t said anything.”

For a split second, Wanda’s eyes flickered up and met his, and he was almost scared to look at her so directly. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, shaking her head slowly. Her lips trembled and her eyes seemed glazed over, like a fog had settled over her irises.

She had put up the barrier in their mental connection for a reason, and it was likely that she was embarrassed or ashamed of what she had said. Wanda held his gaze for only a moment longer before a paramedic softly took her by the shoulder and coaxed her into lying on her back.

“I think she’s in shock,” Vision added. “She was on the city when it started falling”

“An increased heart rate,” one of the responders observed, “and hyperventilation.”

“Let’s move her to the infirmary.”

The small team of medics each took hold of the stretcher and ran to the crowded medical entrance. Vision made no move to follow them, sure that he could do nothing else for Wanda now. Instead, he stayed standing where he was, attempting to catch his breath as people rushed around him to the lifeboats.

He stood for a minute or so, distracted too heavily by the thoughts attempting to process in his mind to notice the agent speaking to him.

“Sir?” she repeated, a bit louder the second time, leaning forward to get Vision’s attention.

“Sorry,” he practically whispered, shaking his head slightly before turning to face her, “yes?”

“The Avengers are meeting for debrief as soon as possible. Are you able to report to the captain’s deck?”

“Ah - I believe so.”

“Thank you,” she answered, looking down at her tablet and swiping to whichever Avenger must be next on her contact list. “You have fifteen minutes.”

The agent quickly walked away, distracted by whatever instructions she’d received on her screen, and Vision watched her blankly until she’d disappeared into the mass of paramedics, agents, pilots, and technicians streaming in and out of the helicarrier’s interior.

Soon after, he realized that there was nothing else to do but head to the debriefing, and Vision started slowly making his way into the ship’s interior. Each step he took felt heavy and dull, and there was some loud sound overtaking everything else - like there was some kind of ringing in his ears. He was unable to truly concentrate on anything except the pulsing emptiness that he had seen in Wanda Maximoff’s eyes, and the way it still seemed to sit inside of him.

Despite their telepathic connection, Vision simply could not understand the terrifying way she had begged to be left behind. But how could he understand resigning oneself to death, after only just discovering what it was like to be alive in the first place? And why would it be a Maximoff that caused him this dilemma? Both twins had initially struck him as having an appetite for personal power - they were clever, vicious, and shared a life-long hitlist. What had the remaining sister experienced that had made her prefer joining her brother over survival?

It was as this thought crossed his mind that the Vision sensed something coming through the mind stone’s channel, like a flood rushing towards him. It was distant and indistinguishable at first, and he suddenly stopped walking when he realized it was quickly growing closer. As the sensation drew nearer, however, it became much more recognizable - he would have known the feeling of that particular connection anywhere, simply because it was the first he had ever experienced.  
Wanda had reopened the gates into her mind, lifting the mental barrier she had built between herself and Vision. 

She had seemingly done so without a clear cause, and definitely without warning, but Vision was still grateful to have her familiar signature restored. It felt like a sign that the world he had joined could eventually grow to trust him, based on his own actions rather than Ultron’s. If nothing else, he was comforted in knowing that she was no longer afraid of their intertwined telepathy.

Soon, however, the connection shifted from a mere impression of Wanda to her own words, echoing between the Vision’s ears:

“Why did you do it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of 'ocean eyes' - but it is NOT the end of the story! I wouldn't leave you on a cliff like that. The sequel will be called 'hostage' and is a continuation of these events. It will cover a much longer space of time than this work did, and will chronicle the Avengers' last days in the tower before making the move to the compound. The first chapter will be published soon, hopefully within a week of 'ocean eyes' being completed. Keep an eye out for it to find out what happens next! Thank you for reading and being lovely in general xxx


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